Red Zone
by Taylor Azure
Summary: Jacob lives in the Bronx and in his life he goes through the depths of hell.M for Language and Lemmons.AH


A/N Hope you like another one of my new stories

'_When I was a child, I talked like a child,_

_I thought like a child,_

_I reasoned like a child._

_When I became a man,_

_I put the ways of childhood behind me.'_

_1Corithians 13_

PREFACE

JPOV

I felt the buzz of electricity shoot through my body as the paramedics tried to keep my heart beating. There were four things that came to my mind before I died.

_One,_ the gang did this to me. They put me on this pavement to rot, so life could eat me away.

_Two,_ somehow it was my fault. I got myself here and decided not to get myself out. I tried to be king and yet failed in my attempt of reaching the throne.

_Three,_ my parents would be disappointed in me, if they were real parents. They'd yell at me for choosing the wrong paths in life.

_Four, _you were there with me. Not physically but I remembered all of your textures that my mind made you real. My mind put you by my side and told me everything was going to be all right.

These four things would always lay deep in my soul and forever hide in my bones.

* * *

One Year Before

I walked out of the gym and threw my hood up to my black sweatshirt. I looked down at my watch and noticed I was past curfew. Bob's going to be pissed but its not like he really gave a fuck about my mom or me anyway. Bob was my step dad, he was a drug dealer and when I would come home mom would have the signature bruises someplace on her body. This pissed me off that my mom would go through with it but she's not so bright in the head herself.

I lived in Bronx, New York. It was shit around there, about two days ago a fifteen year old was shot by some gang dealers. Here there were no rainbows, you defend for yourself and trust nobody, not even your own gang.

I walked into the duplex lot and passed GH's house. I don't know why people called him that but it was probably because his real name didn't fit his character.

GH was sitting on his front steps and dragged on a cigarette. A smoke cooled the nerves in this neighborhood. If you wanted to look tough you had to be calm and a smoke on a cigarette did just that.

"Hey Jay," he said in a nervous voice. I stopped and looked at him, "yeah." He shook his head, puffing out a smoke ring. "I heard yelling from your house," I walked calmly to duplex E6 and made sure my gun was in my pants. For all I knew Bob's gang members could be in the house.

I opened the door and it was way to quiet. It smelled of weed and cigarette smoke in the house. When I walked into the living room mom was on the couch with the lamp dimmed away from her face and Bob was on the rocking chair smoking a cigar.

I walked up to my mom and put some light on her face from the lamp. Right there, on her left cheek was a big purple mark. From the redness around it I could tell it was fresh. I looked at my mom, begging her with pleading eyes.

"Why do you let him do this to you, huh? What did he do this time?" Mom shielded herself away from me and said, "It's fine."

I shook my head, "no it's not."

"Kid stay out of it, the bitch saw it coming," I stood up and faced him. "What the fuck did you call her?" Anger poured into my veins. "You heard me, now mind your own business."

I grabbed the lamp and through against the T.V. The screen broke and glass was everywhere. "You little fucker," Bob stood up so fast that I couldn't even dodge his punch to my right cheek. Bob was going to come after me again but I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my gun. It was aimed at his chest. He stopped where he was and gave me a cocky look.

"What are you gonna do, shoot me? If you're going to shoot me, shoot me." My mom was yelling at me in the background, telling me not to do it.

Tears were running down my face in rage. "I'm going to do it Bob," I said sternly, but it was shaky.

"Kid you got no balls."

Everything happened so fast. I shot Bob five times in the chest and watched him fall to the floor, blood flowing through his white t-shirt. Mom rushed to Bob's side screaming. I ran to my room and grabbed a gun and a pack of bullets, and then I ran out the front door.

GH was still on his steps but this time he had no cigarette in his hand. "You shot him didn't you," I nodded and kept running.

Police sirens were screaming down the road, this only made me run faster. I ran until a black Tahoe pulled up on the side of the road. I noticed the car; it was one of Bob's buyers. Two guys got out and kneed me in the gut.

A brown fabric was put over my head and I was thrown into the back seat. They drove off and I heard the pig's sirens drive by us. Right now I wished I wouldn't have ran away from the pigs.

"Mad Dog what are we going to do with him," said a male voice.

"He's ours," came a deep voice.

I felt the car come to a halt and I was yanked out of the car and was led up some stairs. Big heavy doors were being shut as we walked from room to room. Thrown into a chair, they took the brown sack off of my head. Bright lights were shining in my eyes and I squinted against the light.

An old man in all black walked out from the dark and hit me across the face with the back of his hand. "Como te llamas," he said in a language I did not know of. "He said what is your name," translated one of his men.

"Jay," I said angrily. Another hand hit me across the face.

"Que trabajan para,"

"Who are you working for?" said that one guy again.

I shook my head, "no one." A smile appeared on the old man's face, "tambien se trabaja para mi ahora."

"You work for us," said the man. The old man looked me up and down, "you look like sheet." I wanted to make a smart-ass comment but even though I didn't I was punched again in the face. I coughed up blood this time and spit it out on the floor.

"Now look better," said the old man. The old man called out a name, "Mad dog escolta Jay," I was thrown out of a medal door, landing on my knees on the pavement. I rolled over and grabbed my stomach.

A big bag was thrown and landed by my head, "be under the south bridge at seven." The door was shut and I was alone in an alleyway.

I picked myself up off the ground and wiped the blood off the side of my lip. Grabbing the bag I opened it up and inside was a bundle of cash, two guns, and black and white suits. I zipped it back up and limped down the alleyway until I reach a hotel. It wasn't very nice looking but I was use to shit like this.

I walked in to get a room and the woman at the front desk gave me a disapproving look. "You aren't going to start any trouble are you?"

I shook my head, she gave me a room key and I paid her. "Second floor," I turned around and made my way to the elevator.

Everything hurt and I was dying to lie down on a nice bed. The elevator bell rung telling me I was on the second floor. Before walking out of the elevator I put my hood up. I walked down the hall until I seen number 233. As soon as I was inside I collapsed on the bed and fell asleep.

**A/N Hope you enjoyed the first chapter:)**


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